


Amaranthine

by yuraxchan



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Insecurities, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 03:16:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5190035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuraxchan/pseuds/yuraxchan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sehun was twenty-five when he found his most precious masterpiece: a work of art by the name of Kim Jongin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Amaranthine

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the fest maknaerulez@LJ.

 

Sehun’s breath fanned over his beautiful lover’s naked shoulder as he trailed his fingers in circle on Jongin’s back and the latter sighed contentedly. The cold sheets contrasted drastically to the warm atmosphere of the moment, and it tore off a shiver from the beauty lying close-eyed on his stomach. Pressing a wet kiss to Jongin’s shoulder blade, Sehun’s lips followed a path along his spine, leaving open mouthed kisses on the mocha skin.  
  
He stopped when his chin brushed the sheets, the tissue barely hiding Jongin’s round bottom from view and leaving close to nothing to the imagination. Sehun then took in the sight his boyfriend offered him; Jongin lying naked between the sheets and teasing Sehun with all this honey skin on display, his red and shiny full mouth and those beautiful hooded eyes that haunted Sehun when they weren’t hidden behind his eyelids.  
  
Sehun’s hand settled on Jongin’s covered butt in a tender but possessive touch and he leant down to kiss him full on the mouth. Jongin blinked cutely at him when he pulled away immediately after, not leaving him the time to reciprocate. Sehun smiled, petting his hair, before resting his head in front of Jongin’s on the same pillow. They looked into each other eyes for a long minute, Sehun admiring the work of art in the name of Kim Jongin while that said work of art basked in the attention.  
  
“You’re so beautiful,” Sehun whispered, in awe. “I still can’t believe you’re here with me, that you’re mine.”  
  
Jongin lowered his gaze, biting his lip shyly. He still couldn’t believe it either: Sehun’s words. He knew his boyfriend was sincere. He meant it. It came from the bottom of his heart. Jongin could see his eyes shining with love. But he still doubted Sehun’s words anyway, he just couldn’t believe them totally. Something was preventing him from doing so; past ugly scars and insecurities still deeply engraved into his skin.  
  
He didn’t reply. He didn’t have to. Sehun already knew everything about him. As if reading his thoughts, Jongin’s breath hitched when his boyfriend took his right hand in his and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “I love you,” Sehun confessed, his lips forming the words against the back of Jongin’s hand. It sent shivers down Jongin’s spine and he let out a soft whine.  
  
Smiling in glee, Sehun quickly bent down to kiss him once more, slotting their mouth together tenderly. He didn’t let Jongin pull away and slid his tongue inside his hot cavern instead, craving for more. Sehun wanted Jongin to feel desired and loved. He needed Jongin to believe him, to trust him. Even after all these years, he knew Jongin was still as insecure as he was back when they first started seeing each other. It was Sehun’s duty to remind him how much Jongin was precious to him and how ethereal and gorgeous he was. It could be tiring for some, but not for Sehun. Jongin was everything Sehun had always wanted. He was his missing piece.  
  
  
  
  
  
Sehun met Jongin three years ago at a gala.  
  
Being one of the richest people in town Sehun was always invited to glamourous parties and galas. While his peers liked to drink fine vine, chat or bicker about the latest trend in fashion, technology or the likes, Sehun always preferred to admire the art decorating the room or the mansion he was in.  
  
Sehun was a volatile guest, he would disappear a few minutes into the party, and the people who were unfamiliar with his habits would search for him everywhere—for hours sometimes, in fear something had happened to him. They would never find him though, because he would be too busy looking around the flowers in the garden or the artworks hung on the walls.  
  
Sehun hid from them too; whenever he could, when he didn’t want to be found. It still amused him, even now, especially now. It reminded him of his youth.  
  
He used to play around with servants back in the day, there was no one else to play cat and mouse with him after all. It was a rebellion of some sort. But no one acknowledged it, no one _knew_  it, and in the end they would forget he was even there in the first place, too busy to chase after Sehun.  
  
Since birth, Sehun had always been alone. He was fine with it, being alone was better than being with those people anyway. Not that he hated them, he just felt inadequate next to them. Sehun had never belonged to this world. Even if he was born in a golden cage, he simply wasn’t like them.  
  
In his twenties, he remembered being followed around like he was a king; women tried to seduce him, wanting Sehun to marry them or their daughters, throwing themselves at his feet shamelessly, while men mostly wanted to sign contracts with his father’s company—although some of them wanted him for  _him_  too. Who wouldn’t want the handsome son of a millionaire to be his?  
  
But he couldn’t care less. Sehun, far from being a naïve young boy, had quickly understood how this world worked. And so, he had basked in the unwanted attention, made use of his popularity and wealth, and had played a game of pretend.  
  
It was then than Sehun had found art. Art was his haven. Art allowed him to escape. Art meant freedom for Sehun. More than art itself, Sehun loved beauty. Sehun couldn’t really define what beauty meant—even for him—or what the essence of  _beauty_  was exactly, but it was all he even sought in art. Beauty. Not any, but a special beauty—something out of this world. And the more uncommon, the better.  
  
With his new discovery, he had realized that, for the first time in his life, he was lucky to belong to the wealthier families. Because art was expensive, art was reserved to the elite, art was for the  _riches_. Since then, Sehun chose the places he went to depending on his knowledge on their collections or art and what he could buy from them to add to his own collection. In a sense, Sehun only went to galas to buy art from his peers.  
  
At twenty-five, his collection had already been ridiculously gigantic. And worth billions. Sehun had never looked at the price when he liked something, he didn’t need to anyway. But not a lot of people knew of his  _hobby_ , Sehun being a particularly secretive person, and he wanted it to stay that way.  
  
It was also at twenty-five years old that he found his most precious masterpiece. A work of art by the name of Kim Jongin. And like any other pieces of art that he found to his liking, Jongin had to be his, no matter what. It was just his luck that Jongin had wanted him too.  
  
Jongin had been the main dancer of the spectacle at the gala Sehun was invited to. As usual, Sehun had wandered in the mansion and had found a good hiding place upstairs. From where he was, he could see the stage and could enjoy the show without anyone bothering him. Hidden behind a pillar, he was waiting when the lights went off.  
  
As soon as Jongin had taken his position in the center of the stage, Sehun hadn’t been able to look away from his majestic figure. He had been mesmerized by the way Jongin had walked and had stood on that stage in front of hundred pair of curious eyes. Jongin was shining brighter than anyone and Sehun had even forgotten about the other dancers.  
  
Jongin’s dancing was beautiful, of course, but Sehun had found Jongin way more beautiful. Dance was art, but for Sehun _Jongin_  was the true masterpiece of the gala and not only for his performance. For once, Sehun had found beauty outside inanimate objects, for once art had been a living and breathing piece.  
  
Sehun’s eyes hadn’t left Jongin’s figure even after the show, following his every moves as he talked, smiled and flirted with people. They were all over him as soon as he stepped out of the stage, congratulating him, touching him, envying him, and desiring him. With a scowl on his face, Sehun had watched them lose interest an hour later, forgetting all about the beautiful dancer in favor of the host of the gala.  
  
Jongin hadn’t been left alone completely, two charming women on each side of his arms giggling and trying to seduce him. The dancer had continued to smile pleasantly, flirting back with glinting eyes but Sehun knew better. He had waited, and waited, and found an opening when Jongin had excused himself before disappearing outside.  
  
Sehun guessed he had wanted to get some fresh air so he had slipped through the crowd to get to the balcony and had ensured the window was closed behind him before making his way towards the garden too. There, he had found Jongin sitting on a bench in front of a Michel Angelo’s statue, admiring it silently.  
  
Not wanting to scare him, Sehun had cleared his throat. Jongin had jumped at the sound though and Sehun had felt awkward and strangely guilty to see his beautiful face contorted in fear. “Sorry,” he had mumbled. “I didn’t want to scare you.”  
  
Jongin had nodded then, and he had looked so different from his stage persona. Forgotten were the smirks and the hooded eyes, now all he could see were Jongin’s nervousness and sleepiness. His shoulders were slumped, relaxed, and his expression more guarded.  
  
Sehun felt entranced. This Jongin was even more beautiful.

  
  
  
  
  
There was something beautiful in the way Jongin’s body bent and arched when he danced. His grace, his elegance, his moves; everything was liquid. Jongin was the embodiment of art. He wasn’t simply moving along with the music, he was being one with the music. The effect the dancer had on Sehun hadn’t washed away, even years after the first time Sehun had seen Jongin dance at the gala. He was still breathless when Jongin danced. His heart always beat crazily in his chest in anticipation when Jongin took his position. Jongin was his most precious masterpiece and he wouldn’t trade him for the world.  
  
There was something Sehun had noticed that first time they met. There was way more to Jongin than his talent—something people generally overlooked, too infatuated with the beautiful dancer and his majestic moves. Dancing couldn’t define Jongin. Jongin wasn’t  _just_  an amazing dancer. His lover was a beautiful yet complex human being, a living paradox that Sehun took his time to discover. It took him months to get Jongin to open up to him, to trust him, and to let himself fall into Sehun’s arms. It took him months to remove layers and layers of lack of trust, insecurities and hurtful experiences for Jongin to let Sehun  _love_  him—freely and irrevocably.  
  
If Jongin was hard lines, powerful moves and a charismatic persona on stage, off stage it was an entirely different matter. _His_  Jongin was soft, pliant, sometimes awkward and shy, and terribly insecure. Used to being idolized for his dancing, he never quite knew how to  _be_  Jongin the man and not the dancer. Used to be wanted for his charming face, his youthful innocence or his seductive body, he never quite knew how to trust someone to genuinely love him and not his image or the  _idea_  of him. Used to be discarded easily when the next new shining pretty thing came into the picture, he never quite knew how to believe he could be desired, wanted and loved for  _him_  and not his popularity.  
  
Sehun read into him like an open book. If Jongin’s dance was definitely what enticed him at first, Jongin’s personality and charms were what made him stay and fall in love with him. It was true that Sehun had only been interested in him because of his artistry, because he wanted him to be part of his collection. But, Sehun wasn’t a cruel man; he wouldn’t have run after Jongin only for his talent. Sehun had seen more that night. He had seen a beautiful human being. And Sehun, Sehun wanted all of him.  
  
Because Jongin as a whole was a living embodiment of art.

 


End file.
